Crimson Revenge
by dangerous-fox
Summary: She’s perfect… the professors adore her, the girls admire her and the boys love her… but looks can be deceiving… Why is Draco is only one who can see through her good-girl act? How is she connected to the recent dark happenings around Hogwarts? DM


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Crimson Revenge

dangerous-fox

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Disclaimer… I do not own any of the characters or places that you recognise, they (most likely) belong to J K Rowlings. Anything you don't recognise though, including the plot, (most likely) belongs to me and is not to be used without crediting me or my permission. Thanks~

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?∫ Prologue… Unknown POV

The folds of my dark cloak rustle thickly around me as I move silently down the unlit and somber corridor. I know my way by heart and it does not matter to me whether there is light or not, though darkness tends to be my friend more than light when I am trying to hide. My feet barely touch the moth-eaten carpet as I keep an eye and ear out for anything unusual. My hood is pulled up, casting my face in shadow… reaching the end of the long, familiar corridor; I soon find what I am looking for.

An old wooden door.

I can easily break that door down with a swift kick of my foot, but I don't want my presence to be known… hence the stealth and darkness. Sneering derisively at the simple muggle-made lock, I wonder that the room wasn't properly guarded with intricate charms and hexes. I suppose no one believes that what lies on the other side that important. No one, that is, except me.

Bending down on one knee, I examine the lock and waste no time pulling some twisted wire from my cloak and picking at the clasp. Hearing the muted _click_ that indicates my success, I smile briefly to myself. Something that I hadn't done in a long time… not since…

I firmly push the coming thoughts out of my head as I concentrate on the task at hand. It wouldn't do me any good to wallow in self-pity now and screw everything up. If I'm caught tonight, then it is all over. Maybe I am being slightly melodramatic… but not by much. For the past few months, I have worked hard… scheming and planning… it's all a lot harder than you may think.

Carelessly tossing the lock beside me, I cringe as a dull metallic thud is heard. Though the carpet had muted the sound somewhat, it was thin and still echoed more than I had thought it would. Standing up again, I reach for the smooth brass handle and turn the doorknob gingerly. I apply some pressure to it and attempt to push open the door carefully. It doesn't budge.

Swearing mildly under my breath, I wonder whether there could be another lock that I'm not aware off. Hand still resting on the twisted doorknob; I lean against the door dejectedly. Trust something like this to happen to me. About to give up, I shift my weight to my other foot and almost trip over when the door moves inward slightly.

Eyes narrowed speculatively, I test the door again, this time leaning my weight against it. To my delight, it gives way and swings open slowly and stiffly. There wasn't another lock. It was just firm. Makes me question when the last time it was opened was…

Pulling my wand out ready from deep within my robes, I look inside the room to find that it is pitch black. Darker than the corridor had been. I wait patiently for my eyes to adjust to the darkness before spotting the faint outline of a candle just inside the doorway. Frowning, I dig around in my pockets. No matches.

Clenching my fist tighter around my wand, I fight the urge to use magic. There was a time and place for everything, and if I used magic now… well, I might as well kiss goodbye my plan. Realising that there must be matches near the candle, I grope along a thin ledge until my hand rests on a small rectangle box. Smiling to myself, I reach flip it open and find a match. Striking it against the rough edge, it catches fire immediately and I use it to light the candle. Without bothering to blow it out, I chuck the lit match over my shoulder and into the carpeted hall behind me. Like I thought it would, it flickered out just before reaching the ground.

Stifling this unreasonable urge to laugh, I pick up the dim candle and walk further inside the room. Closing the door behind me, I use what little light I have to scan the room. The moving flame flickers and sends wavering shadows about the room. Shivering, I steel my mind and set the candle down in the middle of the small room. 

Before long, I am searching through the dirty and untouched cardboard boxes. Pulling out a large wooden jewelry box from one, I blow the dust off and set it down in my lap. I run a soft finger over the finely engraved decorations. My eyes start to water slightly but I refuse to cry as I undo the latch to slide open the lid. The moment it is opened, a hollow and tinny music is played… like a child's jewelry box. Not a wizard or witch's of course… but that of a muggle child. One note at a time and almost hauntingly.

Inside the box are yellowed photographs. Picking up the first one, I swallow carefully as the tiny figures in the photo wave happily to me. Though they're smiling, I note with a sinking feeling that their smiles don't quite match their eyes. Unable to bear it for much longer, I put the photo back face down into the jewelry box. Some people believe that showing me old pictures of my parents when they were happy and alive helps me to move on. Don't they realise that they're also showing me everything that I've missed out on? The happy family and everything that comes with it… Security, hope, joy, faith…

I scowl and dry my eyes roughly with the sleeves of my robe. I _hate_ getting too sentimental.

Pushing aside the photos, a flash of silver catches my eye. Without knowing it, I hold my breath as I reach in the jewelry box. If this is what I think it is… fingers catching on a thin chain, I pull out a fine rusted silver amulet. My hand shakes slightly as I hold it up in the weak light of the candle. Though slightly tarnished, it is no less beautiful. Hanging on a delicate silver chain is a tiny pendent made up of four mixed quartzes; amethyst, rose, citrine and smoky.

Closing my left fist around the amulet, I stop it swinging and pick up a photo with my other hand. I glance back and forth between the amulet in my left and the photo in my right. Satisfied that I have got what I came for, I slip the amulet into my deepest pocket and reached for the candle. I hesitate before pocketing the photo as well. Smiling grimly to myself I start towards the door.

Opening it slightly, I take one last look around the room and blow out the candle. One part of me never wants to leave this room, and yet the other is repulsed by it. Shivering without the feeble warmth of the flame, I shut the door quickly before I could change my mind. Picking the lock up from the floor, I carefully re-lock the room. If I don't hurry, I'll miss the Hogwarts Express…

Slipping my hand into my pocket, I finger the amulet absently as I move silently down the corridor. Hogwarts… the place where I'll start my plan for revenge.

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«--.dangerous-fox.-{ - please review

Hey Everyone, this is my first time trying to write a HP fanfic, so please bear with me! It may not seem like a lot now, but I need to lay down the boring background before I actually get into the story. So please read and review if you like it! I love getting reviews… -hint hint- Feel free to ask me any questions.

I guess you can say this is like a trial post… to see if people actually like the idea of the story. There's not much to go by at the moment, but I hope people are interested. So make sure you let me know, okay?

Feel free to visit my account at fictionpress.com and read some of my stories there! (check my account for a link)

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Extract from Chapter One… Harry's POV

Looking away quickly, I focus my attention on the plate in front of me. I'm starting to get a bit of a headache… maybe I'm just hungry? Feeling my forehead, I realise that its much hotter than what it should be. Ron is looking at me worried.

"Something wrong, Harry?" he asks, glancing at me with my hand on my scar. My scar? But surely there's nothing here at Hogwarts that's making my scar hurt… right?


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